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Man Up, Baby!

Yesterday I received something a little odd in the mail. Somehow I got put on a list to receive some samples of Enfamil, along with coupons for similar products to help me “Raise my new bundle of joy.” I’ve been thinking really, really hard why anyone would think that I was pregnant, but I keep coming up short. I mean, wouldn’t a package addressed to “Mr. Justin Hagerman” raise a red flag in their mailing department? I suppose one of my neighbors could’ve signed me up; I have been eating too many cheeseburger hotdogs lately, and my unemployment status could be mistaken for maternity leave. So I’ll keep the bloody Enfamil. Hey, with today’s high food prices, it’s beginning to look pretty appetizing.

Speaking of babies, today I saw an internet ad for a baby cradle, a Zen baby cradle. This was funny because I recently helped my mom clean out her attic, and we threw away my 1982 wood n’ nails cradle. Seriously, I’m amazed I didn’t maim myself on this thing. I don’t know what sort of sick bastards were running the baby industry back then, but one thing was certain-they hated babies.

Zen cradle (Starbucks Menu Mobile sold separately)

My cradle. Oh, the memories!

But you know what? That cradle taught me survival instincts, man. There’s a reason American kids today are fat, dumb, and helpless. Moms are wimping down their kids from day one with Zen baby cribs and other new age yuppie baby bullshit. While you were playing soothing prenatal music for your fetus, Indian and Chinese women were rocking their wombs with “Crime and Punishment” on tape. American parents need to stop babying their babies. This Fisher-Price Zen collection thing should be the first thing to go. Just check out their website (watch the video). Those babies need to be blasted with Metallica, not wind chimes.

I propose a new rite of passage for babies. At eight months old, set your baby loose in the wilderness. Supply them with nothing but dehydrated meals, a compass, and a whip, and see how they fare. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll wind up standing a chance against their Asian counterparts.

Good luck Billy!

Oh, while searching for pictures I stumbled across an ENTIRE web site dedicated to this couple’s baby. Why do people think their children are special? They aren’t, unless they can fly. Otherwise, please don’t bother the rest of us with your boring child. Check back with us in 30 years, and we’ll judge for ourselves just how special that kid turned out to be.

The worst part about that site? It’s updated more than mine.


Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=114


When I first started writing these things two years ago (wow), I was really hesitant to use the term “Blog,” as that’s always been synonymous with coffee-shop-laptop-opinions hacked out by 80’s yuppie spawn. I eventually sucked it up and embraced the term, though I still cry a little bit on the inside each time I use it.

So I’ve been viewing lots of people’s blogs to get ideas to improve my site, and that’s when I lost it. No sooner did I start asking around for advice then I was blasted for using incorrect terminology. First off, I wasn’t looking at blogs, I was “surfing the blogosphere.” WTF? (the only good internet slang). Blogosphere? That sounds like a giant bubble where astronauts decontaminate themselves in space.

I was then advised to check out the “Microblogs” posted on “Twitter.” Microblogs? Aren’t those tiny objects that cause a bladder infection? And what asshole coined the phrase “Twitter?” Twitter, to me, sounds like the name a San Francisco couple gives their pet ferret. Maybe they’re distant relatives of yours, and you happened to be in the Bay Area visiting, so you dropped by. You’re having a great time, enjoying some of their offbeat culture, when their pet ferret jumps on your lap. You’re like, “Cute ferret. What’s his name?” You assume it’s Furro, or James Bond, or some shit, but you’re uncomfortably surprised when you’re told it’s Twitter.
You bite your tongue and remain calm, trying to be good company, knowing you’ll be stewing over this retarded name for weeks to come.

“Actually,” the person says, “It’s Twitter II. The original Twitter was killed by our last relative who visited.”

You lose all control. The only thing worse than a shitty pet name is a shitty pet name appendage such as Jr. or III.

Outraged over this travesty of a name for a travesty of a pet (Ferrets aren’t pets, they’repests.), you grab poor Twitter and launch him in front of a San Francisco streetcar, content you’ve done the right thing by putting this animal out of its misery. The police give you a reward and arrest your relatives for animal cruelty.

Twitter, a real dick.

Other lame internet terms:
Emoticon: This sounds like a robot I could have sex with.
Hotspot: A rash on your balls?
Blurker: When you fart in a hot tub?
Flaming: (Insert cheap gay joke here)

The correct phrase for all of this internet terminology is “Netlingo.” But you know what? Sounds like people just coin these phrases to make the internet seem more hip and exclusive. They serve no real purpose other than to make “bloggers” feel like they’re on the cusp of a technological revolution. But they’re not, they’re just self-important assholes. Edit: I am also a self-important asshole.

So I propose a new phrase for these overhyped words: Blingo.

Side note: Doing research for this I stumbled upon a list of internet acronyms “Every parent should know” here. I don’t have kids that I know of, but it was pretty interesting nonetheless. I’m really out of the loop. I feel like some old grandpa. “In my day, we just had A/S/L!” Check out what #21 on that list is. I think that’s hilarious, and I’m going to start incorporating it into all of my text messages.



Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=107

Rage Against The Plant

An open letter to Led Zeppelin’s Robert Plant

Dear Mr. Plant:

Congratulations on your recent Led Zeppelin reunion show in London. Good show, old boy! Sorry I wasn’t there, though it was not for lack of trying, as I made it known that I would’ve done the most ardous of sexual favors to have acquired a ticket.

Being only 26, I was not yet alive while Led Zeppelin were touring, and since that mail order time machine hasn’t arrived yet, I doubt I’ll ever get to see one of those shows. So you can understand my excitement when I heard reliable rumors that you were planning a world tour after the London concert. I think it’s safe to say that it would be the most anticipated tour of our time, short of someone digging up Lennon and Harrison for a marionette performance with the surviving Beatles.

Anyway, when I heard that you, Mr. Plant, were no longer interested in a reunion tour because you were committed to your current tour with Alison Krauss (whoever the flippin f**k that is), my heart sank, and my balls retracted into my abdomen. WHAT THE HELL, MAN? Who gave you the right to decide if you’d be involved in a Led Zeppelin tour or not? What was that London show for, “Charity?” Bull. You’re a musical cocktease, man. If I run into you on the street, I’m going to beat your ass, right after I shake your hand, get an autograph, and get a cell phone picture to document the event, all while I’m secretly stealing a lock of your hair to eBay. Watch your back, Plant.



Sorry about that. I’m actually not as pissed as I could’ve been, because I’m still stoked about the Foo Fighters concert I just saw. It was pretty awesome, but it was a shame they had to perform in the Spectrum. It was kind of like getting it on with this really hot chick, but in a porta potty. Kind of dampers the elation. Below is a picture of me at the show.

I’ll also be seeing the Police in July, hopefully Stone Temple Pilots in May, and quite maybe REMin June. I’m a regular roadie.

What else have I been up to…Oh, I moved. Across the parking lot. I thought it would be easy since it wasn’t that far, but even with a moderate sized U-Haul and lots of help, it still sucked ass. Thanks to Greg, Hank & Angela for their help. I know you guys had a blast, because helping friends move is always fun! Greg was all smiles. I’m saving a lot of money by moving into a studio apartment, though it’ll be a little cramped until my girlfriend finishes her class and moves out. Like, four Sumo wrestlers in a VW bug cramped.

Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=105

Final Thoughts

Sorry for the lag in posting. I’m sure all of my fans are dying to hear how everything went, so here goes…

Series of events for August 15th, 2007

I woke up at 7 a.m. excited and insanely nervous for my segment on the NBC 10! show (click that link for more info), a Philadelphia version of “The Today Show.” They had called the day before to inform me that in addition to the interview, I would be doing 2 minutes of stand-up. I asked if I could do the same jokes that I had won the WMGK contest with, and I was told that would be fine. I had recorded an episode of the show a week before, and a comedian had done a joke about a “Hardcore porn virus” which has ravaged his parents’ computer, so I thought my material would be appropriate.

I show up on time and ready for action, and before the show starts they record a 1 minute “teaser” of me doing my stand-up to lead into the commercial break before my segment. I do the electric chair bit, and the crew seems to like it. (The crew, by the way, was really cool & cordial). In the green room I spent some time talking to another guest that day, Darren McGrady, who was Princess Diana’s personal chef. He was surprisingly down-to-earth and gave me a signed copy of his book.

You can’t really see the stage from the green room, so I didn’t get a good look at the audience until the show actually started at 10 a.m., at which point I noticed that there was a sh*tload of kids in the crowd. WTF? No one told me the audience would be composed of 99% children!! Evidently they were tied into a segment which would happen later in the show, and I got to wondering, ‘Why the hell would they plan a stand-up segment when they knew the audience would be all kids?’ My palms started to sweat and I became even more nervous, as I’m only minutes away from performing.

I tell myself to calm down. After all, they approved my material and didn’t question it any further. I figured my jokes would go over their heads, and the few parents in the crowd would chuckle. Whatever, I’ve bombed before. The PA brings me out, they come back from commercial and I run out like a pro and this is what I’m greeted by:

What followed is pretty obvious. I have it on tape, but I haven’t summoned up the balls to watch it yet. I do a joke about my degree being worthless, and follow it with my Ultrasound and Electric Chair bits. No one seemed offended, and the kids laughed because I seemed silly. Even their parents laughed, though there was a palpable constipated feeling in the air. Someone later asked me, “Why would you do jokes about death and sperm if you knew there would be kids there?” Well, remember, I didn’t f**king know!! This disaster was followed by an awkward interview segment, which consisted of the hosts trying to cover their asses by making it seem as if I knew there would be kids out there. I threw it back at them, though, by pleading my genuine ignorance of this, and stressing that I was a beginning amateur.

I really didn’t know how bad things were until the cameras went off. The smiles immediately disappeared from the hosts’ faces, and they wouldn’t even look at me. I began to walk back towards the green room when a crazed woman started frantically calling me out into the hallway. I knew it was about to hit the fan because the crew wouldn’t even look at me-They knew I was about to get pounded.

The woman shook my hand, introduced herself as the Executive Producer, and said, “You really just f**ked us bad.” The next few minutes I was kind of in shock, like after a car accident, and as she was escorting me out of the building she was yelling about how sponsors would back out, “This was the worst f**king sh*t that had ever f**king happened to them,” etc. Basically, telling me that I had destroyed NBC 10. Perhaps all of television!

Well, the whole thing is funny now. It wasn’t that day, though, and she almost f**ked me over that night at Helium because I was an anxious wreck the rest of the day. I kept picturing all of these children spending the next few years in intense therapy, right next to the children of people killed on 9/11, and those kids would be thinking, “Jesus, we really don’t have it bad at all; these kids are really messed up!”

But I got my sh*t together (kind of), and after some booze I did a pretty awesome set in front of friends, family, and a large crowd of strangers. The show was actually quite packed. You can download the audio of that set by downloading this link (Right-click, hit “Save As”).

The WMGK girl presenting me with my trophy before the show. (I seem to be thinking about vulgar things that she, the trophy & I could do together after the show)

Another pic of me & the unique yet awesome trophy. Admittedly, I look a little gay in this picture.

Photos all taken by Mr. Mike Miller

That night my friends and I hit the mean streets of Philly to party, and we settled on The Continental on the corner of 2nd and Market Street. That place is pretty swank, I must say. We drank on the roof, and the whole thing was very James Bond-ish.

Waiting for the valet to fetch our cars after The Continental.

The next morning I woke up to do some stand-up on the John DeBella show. I was hung over and running on 2 hours sleep, but I did pretty awesome. Even my banter was top-notch. They found the whole NBC 10 thing funny, which is cool, as I was worried that I’d doomed the radio station as well.

This whole thing has been fun/weird/scary/cool, and I want to thank everyone who came out to see me. I’d also like to thank the 10! show, because they have inadvertently given me street cred among the Philly comedy community.

On an unrelated, PLEEEASE vote or comment on my entry for the Heinz ad contest. You may view it on YouTube here.

Ok I’m sick of talking about me, I’m gonna go drink some vodka.


Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=102

Parallel Adventures

Last night I saw a pretty interesting show on parallel universes. Basically, modern physicists believe that an infinite number of “parallel” universes exist in another dimension, meaning that right now, an alternate version of you is reading this blog-the only difference is you’re wearing disco pants and living in Cuba.

This inspired me to write a short story (with pictures!) about what it would be like if I traveled to a parallel universe…

(At my computer) There, I’ve finally done it! I’ve viewed every possible shred of pornography on the internet, even that disturbing yet alluring dinosaur bondage site. And all this cost me was my savings, friends, and family. Small price to pay, I say! I wonder if I should put this on my resume?
Mr. Hagerman, this is The Internet-Congratulations, you have unlocked the portal to Dimension B, a universe parallel to your own!
Wow, another universe! I’m willing to bet they have freaky porn I’ve never even dreamed of. Let’s go!


Welcome to Universe B, friend! My name is Jason Haggerman. I would’ve thought a version of me dropping in from another universe would be startling, but it takes a lot to shock me after I just finished downloading every shred of pornography in the galaxy.
It’s kind of a zen moment, isn’t it?
Yes, yes it is. So as you can no doubt tell, I am exceedingly rich. My short film, Bliss, was a critical and financial success, a watershed moment in indie filmmaking. Did yours fare as well?
(long, uncomfortable pause, the only sounds being the clock ticking and Justin’s stomach rumbling)

…uh, oh yeah, yeah…big hit, bit hit…

I also just made a sh*tload in the stock market. Our economy is flourishing under the leadership of our genius president. Was your 2000 election as close as ours?
Yeah, but it sounds like Gore won out here. So this is how things would’ve turned out, huh? I knew it!
Gore, are you mad?? That incompetent hick couldn’t lead his way out of a paper bag. No sir, President Dr. Bush is our leader!
Come again?
President Dr. Bush, defender of the poor and patron of the arts! President Dr. Bush, born in a log cabin, which he disassembled and rebuilt at age four to make it more energy efficient. President Dr. Bush, whose thesis paper “The United States & the Relation Between its Foreign Religious Policies & Radical Islam” led to a peace accord with the Middle East. A nice chap named Saddam Hussein owns a Starbucks down the street, if you’re thirsty.
This universe kicks ass! I bet you still have to deal with pissy old people and loud babies though.
Actually, the elderly are sent to an island so as to not disrupt the flow of traffic, or vote irresponsibly in Presidential elections. On the island they are melted down into a pollution free fuel. But yes, babies can be annoying. Every time they cry, Led Zeppelin IV is heard playing from their mouths. You have no idea how sick I am of Misty Mountain Hop!
This just keeps getting better and better! I think I’ll like it here. I can only imagine how hot the women are.
Wo-men? I am not familiar with this species-the only humans here are men, and we reproduce asexually.
You mean there are no chicks here? That’s insane!! So what was that porn you were downloading?
That’s personal! You’re not asexophobic, are you?
No, oh no, no…so yeah, I think I’m gonna skedaddle. Have fun with that asexual thing, I hope that works out for you.

(Justin transports back to his own universe, disheartened after being so close to finding the perfect life)

Who was that, love?
Just another parallel version of myself, Never-Married-Or-Pregnant Britney Spears.
You scared him away with that asexual schtick, didn’t you? If you weren’t so f**king hot, that childish behavior would get on my nerves. That being said, Ms. Portman and Ms. Jolie are waiting in the master bedroom, so let’s get going!


I think that’s the most plausible scenario, don’t you?

Some quick things-Live Earth was pretty swell, wasn’t it? I think the best performances were from the Smashing PumpkinsGenesis and Foo Fighters (those link to videos), but my favorite was when Spinal Tap invited every band’s bass player out to play the hook from Big Bottom.

FYI, I found those videos today at work, because our system was down for two hours. I technically got paid to surf YouTube:)



Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=99

5 Years

September 11 started as a really kick-ass day for me. I was 19 and a sophomore in college, still living in the dorms. My morning class had been cancelled because the teacher wasn’t feeling well, so I got to sleep in 3 hours. I woke up around 10:30 AM and decided to finish watching The Empire Strikes Back for the 80th time. The sound was amazing on our ghetto surround sound system consisting of three small speakers and two speakers from a 20 year-old record player my roommate’s parents had lent us. I watched the scene where Harrison Ford and Carrie Fisher were trying to clean those weird creatures off of the Millennium Falcon (Unbeknownst to them, that was the least of their problems because they were actually inside the mouth of a giant space monster!).

Next, I decided to take a shower (this was around 11 AM). I thoroughly enjoyed my shower because I was the only one in the bathroom. This had never happened before-usually there was some guy beating off in the stall next to me or a guy from down the hall banging his girlfriend in the stall at the end. It was nice to bathe in peace and quiet and I was so overjoyed that I practically skipped back to my room, still wearing a towel and holding my gay shower basket.

That’s when I ran into a guy walking the opposite direction. I had never met him before, but he looked up at me, shook his head and said, “Man, can’t believe it…” I figured he was a freshman who had just failed his first big test, so I thought I’d try to bring his spirits up. I smiled and said “Hey, what’re you going to do? Shit happens!” I’ll never forget the look he gave me-it was a blend of shock and disgust, and I think he really wanted to kick my ass. I let this obviously ungrateful guy be and went back to my room. As I started to get dressed I turned on the news, and then said aloud, “Oh, f**k me.”


Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=97

Sweet Dreams

As I write this I am getting ready to crash. Insomnia is fun until you actually get tired, and then you get really, really tired. I thought I’d use this space to brainstorm my ideal dream for tonight. Hopefully it’ll go something like this…


“Wow, can’t believe everyone’s dead but me! Good thing I was on this awesome island. Wait, what’s that sound?”

“Another survivor, thank God! Don’t worry, I know how to cook, build shelter, treat wounds, start a fire, and build a TV out of sand.”

“Sweet! I can recite 17 episodes of The A-Team from memory.”

“What’s all this ruckus? I’m trying to explore my body.”

“Wow, TV’s Gillian Anderson! I have such a lesbian crush on you. If I didn’t know better, I’d swear you were in your twenties.”

“I am! The nuclear blast changed the cellular structure of my body so I am no longer 38 years old. I am just as I was inThe X-Files.”

“Keen! Let’s lick each other.”


“Hey, friendly neighborhood Spider-Man here! I believe I am your boyhood hero, and I’m also gay, so my manhood poses no threat to your dominance over these female celebrities. I exist merely to swing around and entertain you. I can also get sweet, sweet fruit that is up high in trees.”

“Nuclear holocausts rock for me!”

Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=90

Yay Vicodin, Boo Child Killers

I had four wisdom teeth removed this morning. Despite all the hype around this procedure, it was relatively fast and easy and I’m barely in pain. Of course, that could be because of the Vicodin they prescribed me. This stuff rocks, I can see why people get addicted to it. I may have to go back and have some more teeth yanked just to get another bottle. The best thing about the surgery? I can close my mouth now-the 5 mm gap between my teeth is now a little more than 1 mm. Studies have shown that women are attracted to men who can close their mouth.

Attention News Media: Calm your ass down. This JonBenet Ramsey murder suspect is full of it. Next time, before you go apesh*t, check to see if his story doesn’t have HUGE GAPING HOLES. The Boulder Police Department may want to heed this advice as well.

Gotta go; I just got a paper cut and I may need some Vicodin to tackle this massive pain. Pray for me.



Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=87

Blast from the past

I found an old page that used to be on my site years ago. It was very juvenile and obscene, and it would really be tasteless to post it on my site now. So I’ll put it here!

Ok, here is a sample of the page that was “Rejected Porn Movie Titles.”

Riding Ms. Daisy

Savoring Ryan’s Privates

Eating Gilbert’s Grapes

Stop or my Mom will Strip!

Don’t Tell Mom The Babysitter’s Bi

Cheek and Shlong

I Still Know What You Did With the Plumber

Sister Caught in the Act

The Truth About Cats and Dogs and Me

and my favorite…

Big Trouble in Little Vagina

Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=85

You Know You’re Jealous

Disclaimer: I am drunk

Heeey, what’s up? Hey, thanks for stopping by. Let me take you through the series of events that was my thrilling, action-packed Friday evening:

5:00-Began drinking vodka and coke.

6:00-” ”

7:00-” ”

7:30-Rummaged through my porn box and “entertained myself.”

7:35-Took a quick nap.

10:00-Awoke and proceeded to watch “Good Night and Good Luck.”

12:00-WaWa hotdog run

Here are some pictures to help you visualize my night:

Thrilling, huh? My day was semi-productive, however, as I started transferring old family VHS films to the more durable DVD format. For the Disney World trip tape, I surfed the internet to locate the exact names of the rides for the chapter titles (I’m a thorough muthaf**ker) and I discovered that the kick-ass ride that was “20,000 Leagues Under the Sea” ceased to be in 1994. WTF??? That ride actually made looking at a giant aquarium interesting, and they scratched it for some Lilo & Stitch crap? I was outraged and discovered a web site dedicated to the memory of the ride, located here. It is a little sad, actually. I wish I had that much free time.

Anyway, Hank sent me a link you may enjoy, unless you were born after 1983, then you’ll have absolutely no idea what the hell is going on. Peace, bitches.



Permanent link to this article: http://thecomedypage.com/?p=83

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